


won't you show me how?

by ggwynbleidd



Series: Dethentine's [3]
Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Awkward Dates, Awkward Kissing, Dethentine's, F/M, Gift Fic, post doomstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:53:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29368824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ggwynbleidd/pseuds/ggwynbleidd
Summary: After everything during Doomstar, Pickles expected Abigail never to talk with him again. And was more than surprised when she approached him.For the Dethentine's prompt "First Date."
Relationships: Pickles the Drummer/Abigail Remeltindtdrinc
Series: Dethentine's [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2152359
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	won't you show me how?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InsomniacCoffee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsomniacCoffee/gifts).



So, the over-applying of cologne and powder blue prom tux wasn't the move. That much was decided. It hadn't worked in '83 and Pickles wasn't sure why he thought it would work the second time.

He had decided he was going to ask after the dinner. Made sense, right? Mingling with the general public, talking with her one-on-one in a corner, some liquid courage. And then all...that...happened. With the dinner a bust, Pickles had hoped to see her the next time he could just...in general. To talk. Offer apologies. Not even ask her out, that felt inappropriate, but to call himself and his old bandmates a collective group of jackasses of the highest degrees.

Abigail had pointedly avoided them all except for Toki, and Pickles had wondered if there was any etiquette about trying to chat up a girl at a funeral.

He never got the chance to.

Pickles figured that, after all of that, she wouldn't want a damn thing to do with any of them. It was perfectly fair. She had been pulled into so much drama, and things that went beyond drama, that Pickles wouldn't have wanted to interact with the motherfuckers behind it, either. That was perfectly fucking fair.

But she hung around. She said it was for Toki, initially. To stay by his side. Pickles didn't question it, because he could only guess how close they would have gotten over the days of their mutual captivity. So it made the most sense for her to stay around for his sake. And nobody else's.

"Pickles?" she had called, stopping him dead in his tracks in one of the hallways of Mordhaus.

"Y-yeah?" he said nervously. Stood there like an idiot, scratching the back of his neck with an awkward cough.

"I've been trying to...get...more social, after..." she gestured into the air. Pickles nodded. "That's what that therapist of yours says to do. So, I'm trying to be more social. And I was wondering if you wanted to...grab...dinner..."

"Yeah!" Pickles barked out with way too much eagerness to his voice that made it crack. Abigail hid a smile behind her hand politely. "Yeah, of course, I'd love to, where would you-"

He was off planning it. But it was a thing between friends, right? It was just for friends. It's not like she wanted to talk with him like that. That was fine. That was fine. It was totally, absolutely fine. Pickles had moved past that part of his life.

Even when he saw her at dinner and she was dressed like she was going on the red carpet. A lovely dress, makeup to match, that new shortly cropped haircut above her ears to show off a nice pair of earrings. Enchanting.

That little crush or whatever the hell it was? It crawled back up into Pickles' heart and made a nest in the worst way possible.

"Hi," she said with a little grin.

"Hey!" he swallowed back any compliment not to be off putting. He felt stupid for this. It was just a friendly dinner.

The two of them sat down and ordered a nice bottle of wine. One that Pickles knew really well and would recommend to the best of people that he knew. That was a part of his bill. He promised that when he saw how Abigail's eyes grew large at the price attached to it.

"Well, then I have to pay for the rest of dinner, if you're blowing your half of the bill on a bottle of wine," she teased.

"Hell yeah. Equality, or whatever. I'll drink to that," he raised his glass and took a sip.  
The night continued without a hitch. It was easier to talk to her when fifty other things weren't going on. Especially when Abigail got a text on her phone, sneered at it in disgust and set it down with an apology.

"My sister is so...so annoying, it's-" she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Pickles wondered if she had that habit beforehand, or if that was something that she had picked up from Charles in such a short period of time. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have even brought her up. My parents just do this thing where they-"

"Act like she hung the moon when you've been busting your ass and get nothing in response?" Pickles finished for her.

"Yes! Oh my God, yes?" she said with an almost delighted squeal. "You have that too?"

"Yeah, man, my brother is-"

And they were off. They weren't all that different, in the long run. Abigail's parents were a little bit more pleasant than Pickles' - and he was thankful every day he heard somebody had a different upbringing than him, but Abigail especially - but they definitely had their favorite daughter. And it wasn't Abigail. Despite her extensive career, her prestigious education, the way that she bent over backwards in school. Which, to be fair, she tried to get the approval of her parents in a smarter way than Pickles did.

Regardless, he was happy to have met a kindred spirit as they talked over wine, and steak, and some pasta dish Abigail ordered that Pickles couldn't say the name of.

He bought the wine that went with dessert, too. Something light and fruity, white and sweet, that went well with the cheesecake with gold leaf on it. Pickles' skin was flushed as the alcohol swam in his head, Abigail's face was content and obviously tipsy on her own, and they poked and prodded the inedible gold leaf off of the cake entirely.

"I don't understand why they do this," she mumbled before taking a bite. With a little noise, she began to speak behind her hand. "It's good without metal on it!"

"You'll be surprised what kind of shit rich people pull, just to feel rich. The dumbest thing I've ever seen were, like, these chicken wings with gold in the hot sauce. But they were those black chickens, that are so black their bones and their meat are black or something. Very brutal but...very expensive," Pickles smirked.

"That sounds like it tasted awful," she said.

"Oh, like absolute ass," he replied, smiling as she laughed at what he had said.

Pickles walked her to her car afterwards. She was weaving a bit on her heels, immediately discarded and held in her hands the second they were outside. For being somewhere this fancy they didn't seem to be a valet. Not like Pickles particularly cared since he was in a limo. Which is what they opted for when the two of them stumbled again and decided that neither of them were fit to drive tonight.

"It was nice...to do this...I liked it..." Pickles said awkwardly. "This was really fun. We should hang out again."

"We should," Abigail hummed in agreement as they stopped there. "It's a little...late, though."

Pickles opened the door of the limo for her, crawling in after. He sat down next to her, a few inches away, settling back into the seat when he instructed the driver.

Abigail rested her head against his shoulder and he felt his body go stiff. She looked up at him with a smile as she wrapped her arm around his.

"I really liked this. I've not been on a date in a while, but-" she stopped talking as Pickles made an odd, strangled noise in his throat. "Hang on-oh my God-Pickles-"

"I knew that! I totally knew that!" Pickles coughed out awkwardly, face turning red.

He did not.

Not that he minded, but-

"I'm so sorry! I thought...since we...and you..." Abigail gestured vaguely, face growing darker as she blushed. "I don't know...I am so sorry-"

"It's okay! It's okay! It was a date, it was fun, I really had fun!" Pickles said with a laugh, holding onto her shoulder. "It's okay. I had fun. I promise. And I would want...to go on another."

Abigail paused.

"Well...it's not entirely a date, yet," she said coyly.

"What?"

She leaned forward, lips lightly grazing against his cheek, and Pickles' body shivered before relaxing in entirely. The two of them smiled at each other and laughed a moment, before Abigail threw her arms around Pickles' neck and kissed him on the lips.


End file.
